Imagine a doctor who deliberately infects his patients.
Not by accident. Not through negligence. Deliberately.
He moves through the hospital corridors in his white coat, his face reddened with hubris, speaking solemnly about public health. He appears on panels. He raises money for disease prevention. He lectures those who will listen about compassion, vigilance, and the terrible danger of contagion. He warns that the epidemic is worse than most can understand and reeks of an assumption that only people like him possess the expertise, courage, and moral seriousness required to confront it.
Then, after the cameras are gone, he walks from room to room spreading the disease himself.
The next morning, he returns, po-faced and luminous, to announce that the crisis has deepened. More funding is needed. More staff. More research. More authority. More conferences and first-class travel, more public trust. More leather chairs. More senior counsel. More administrators. More solemn professionals expl…
